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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23102854">talk to me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidsintern/pseuds/cupidsintern'>cupidsintern</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Steve Harrington, E-Boy Billy, First Kiss, Gay Billy Hargrove, Light Angst, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tenderness, soft boy Steve</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:01:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,904</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23102854</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidsintern/pseuds/cupidsintern</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>/“On your 18th birthday, on your wrist will appear the first words your soulmate will ever say to you.”/</p>
<p>And they always say it like that: “will ever say.”<br/>Not has said. <br/>Because it’s practically unheard of that you would have met your soulmate- your literal twin flame or whatever- before that. <br/>Which is why, Steve is staring at the words on his wrist in absolute shock because either he’s heard this a million times or he’s heard it very specifically once and he doesn’t know which one it is. </p>
<p>/“Harrington, right?”/</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>461</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>talk to me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“On your 18th birthday, on your wrist will appear the first words your soulmate will ever say to you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And they always say it like that: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>ever say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>has said. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because it’s practically unheard of that you would have met your soulmate- your literal twin flame or whatever- before that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which is why, Steve is staring at the words on his wrist in absolute shock because either he’s heard this a million times or he’s heard it very specifically </span>
  <em>
    <span>once </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he doesn’t know which one it is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Harrington, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure people call him Harrington at school. Sure people call him Harrington in general. Especially on the team. But only one person has called him Harrington and Harrington </span>
  <em>
    <span>exclusively </span>
  </em>
  <span>on a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>daily basis </span>
  </em>
  <span>since they met. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s just, not who he’d expect. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And also not a good match, what the fuck?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve rubbed at the black ink now forever on the skin of his wrist. Did this sort of thing ever go wrong? Could like, the universe be wrong or whatever? Because, like, no. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No way in hell was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Billy</span>
  </em>
  <span> his-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His </span>
  <em>
    <span>soulmate. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was fucking impossible. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Harrington, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve might have had a harder time keeping the whole thing under wraps if it weren’t for his now non-existent popularity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone forgets his birthday. He doesn't even get one of those notes from the office with a lollipop taped to it when he got to school. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, everyone except one person. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve! Hey!” Nancy pushes past a couple people in the hall to stand closer to Steve. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Nance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy birthday!” She smiles- it’s not even forced, things have been better lately- and hands him a card. The card reads “you’re legal… have fun being tried as an adult!” There's three dollars inside with “for your first scratcher” written next to them.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes Steve smile a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“From Jonathan and I.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Steve means it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what does it say?” Nancy asks expectantly.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve stomach drops. “What like, the first words?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Nancy seems too excited to know. “That’s the best part!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The best part of turning 18 she means. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonathan and Nancy are almost definitely each other’s soulmates. Jonathan turns 18 in a month. Nancy in three. And everyone and their mother knows the quotes will match- they have too. You’ve never seen two people so in love. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s, uh…” Steve trips over his words. How would Nancy even know who it was from the quote anyway? He could probably tell her. She shouldn’t be able to guess. But he doesn’t. “It’s, kind of…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Nancy nods understandingly. “Is it a weird one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s something that happens sometimes. The first words are awkward or x-rated or something. And I mean, it’s a matter of the heart, people don’t tend to be rude if you say you’d rather not show. So Steve just nods quickly and goes </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep. A weird one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s too bad. Always fun to see people showing them off.” She sounds disappointed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nancy has to get to class, Steve does too, and he’s almost there when he hears:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Harrington!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve skin prickles- it’s not unpleasant. It just sort of happens. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve turns around to see Billy walking to catch up with him in one of his stupid e-boy outfits with the multiple chains and too much black that he can totally pull off for some unknown reason. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” Steve says weakly and then clears his throat to act like he didn’t mean to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey you didn’t fucking wait for me after first, what gives?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bathroom.” Steve lies- weakly again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy rolls his eyes. “You could have fucking texted me, just stood there by your door like an asshole…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy keeps talking, Steve’s not listening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve thinks he might die. Billy </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot</span>
  </em>
  <span> see what’s written on his wrist. I mean, he probably can, because it’s probably not Billy, I mean it’s definitely not him, why would it be? They’re like, total opposites- even the way they dress! Steve’s wearing a literal “aesthetic” t-shirt and his high waisted jeans, meanwhile Billy looks like he snorted tik toks for breakfast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Billy didn’t ever eat breakfast anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, isn’t your birthday this week?” Billy asks all of a sudden, tuning Steve back in from sheer panic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, what?” Steve tries to shove the birthday card from Nancy in his back pocket, hopelessly bending the shittily-laminated paper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your birth.” Billy talks slower, clearly mocking him. “It happened approximately 18 years ago on a day around now, yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve doesn’t have the brainpower to lie and be offended at the same time. “It uh, no. No not for a bit still.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s in spring though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Spring is almost over, Harrington.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve almost flinches at his last name </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but recovers. “Wow, didn’t know</span>
  <em>
    <span> my BFF </span>
  </em>
  <span>doubled as a calendar.” Billy had called Steve his BFF once as a joke and now Steve won’t let it drop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Woah, woah. Best friends? I don’t know you. Not when you’re wearing a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Friends</span>
  </em>
  <span> T-shirt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Friends </span>
  </em>
  <span>is a good show-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No it’s not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Class starts and ends with no further birth date interrogation. Steve is, for once, thankful everyone ignores him now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve feels kind of like maybe he’s being a little crazy. Because honestly. Honestly! It’s probably not Billy. It just probably isn't if he’s being totally honest and realistic and looking at the facts and being… honest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, he’s not getting anywhere with this. He keeps having to wear long sleeve shirts, too, and the days just keep getting hotter. He wishes he was one of those people that had like bracelets that meant things. Billy had a couple of those. But if Steve just started whacking some balance beads and bi pride bands on himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>now </span>
  </em>
  <span>Billy would definitely notice. And tease him. And then gra his wrist and see the words written there:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Harrington, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve isn't about to let that happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it probably isn't even Billy anyway! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Is he telling himself that too much?...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>DOES HE ACTUALLY BELIEVE IT IS BILLY?- ok, calm down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve looks over his shoulder to where Billy is, three seats back and one row over in class. Billy flips him off, blank face of boredom. He’s painted his middle fingernail black again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve looks back to the front of the class too quick, probably. He pulls the end of the sleeve of his GOLF sweatshirt farther down his arm to ball the fabric up in his hand. He remembers that Billy helped him get this sweatshirt. GOLF merch was always so expensive and Steve probably could have just gotten his parents to buy it for him but it was right after one of his ‘my parents control my life’ meltdowns so Billy dipped into his being-a-weed-dealer money to help him buy it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy does nice things like that sometimes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve thinks maybe Billy still feels bad. About how they were when they first met. Stuff they did. Which was both their faults, honestly. But Billy claimed all the blame without ever saying a word about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve feels his temperature rise a little. Not like, in a hot way or anything, but like, in a, that-memory-makes-me-feel-warm-and-fuzzy way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve doesn't want to admit to himself what he’s about to let cross his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s just that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It might be Billy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Him and Billy have been friends for a while now. Sometimes Steve feels like they sort of, balance each other out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And when Steve first read the words on his wrist, his literal predestined indicator of a love to last a lifetime, it was almost like he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear </span>
  </em>
  <span>the words in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Harrington, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, maybe cutting his whole hand off would help- no, don't do that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>OK, if he’s being totally reasonable, and not crazy or obsessive or ridiculously anxious about the whole thing, he can just wait until Billy’s birthday. Then he’ll see what Billy’s says, and it won’t be the first thing he ever said to Billy, and it'll be fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was the first thing Steve ever said to Billy?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why don’t you just shut up?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, well, yeah ok that’s memorable. And not exactly glamourous. Steve hoped the first thing he said to his real and not-Billy soulmate would be, dunno, better than that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So wait till Billy's birthday and prove himself wrong.  Easy. When’s that? Like, uhhhhhh, a few weeks, right? Yeah. Steve was only kind of older than Billy. He could make it that long. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he wasn't looking forward to wearing that many sweatshirts and layers until this whole thing was over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Really, if he didn’t think it was Billy, none of this would have mattered anyway. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Steve actually did pretty alright for a couple weeks. Aright enough to, of course, get himself into a false sense of security and just think, yeah, this was all gonna blow over no problem, and he pretty much went about business as usual. Which meant, two weeks and two days after Steve’s 18th birthday, Billy invited himself over to get high and play Smash Bros on Steve’s Switch and Steve accepted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which is how Steve ended up still reasonably stoned on his bedroom floor finishing off the last slice of the third pizza box while Billy went on and on about why Chevrolets just weren't made the same anymore- too much plastic, apparently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve likes listening to Billy talk- he doesn't often get into a monologuing groove. Besides, he has a nice voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy announces he’s going to go use Steve’s bathroom, gets up and walks out while Steve stacks the little plastic tables that come with pizza boxes on his polyester carpet. Time passes different when you're high, so Billy's back sooner than Steve expects. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, asshole!” Billy calls, and before Steve can look up, something hits him in the head- not hard, it’s made of cardstock. Bent cardstock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s head catches up with his panic response as he picks up the birthday card from Nancy, and he’s not good at improv even when he’s sober, so he can’t think of anything to say, except: </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where did- where did you find this?” Steve thinks he must have forgotten to throw it away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You fucking liar.” Billy says, ignoring Steve’s question. But he’s grinning. “You said your birthday wasn't for a couple more weeks!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I- I just-” Steve feels a blush he can’t control- but maybe it’s just from being baked? But christ, this is sobering. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It says something embarrassing doesn't it.” Billy drops to sit next to him on the floor again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy’s smarter than Steve, Steve knows that, but this is all too fast and too many right conclusions jumped to for Steve’s own comfort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, lemme see it.” Billy reaches for Steve’s hand. Steve leans back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The words, dumbass.” Billy rolls his eyes before reaching again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve tries to evade again, but soon it seems like they might just end up wrestling for it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Billy, seriously-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It can’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that bad-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just drop it-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Don’t be a pussy-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Steve can protest any further, Billy pushes him down onto the carpet by his shoulders, and moves to sit straddling his stomach, pinning his arms down by his head. Steve is quite literally floored, with Billy in the hazy twilight of the early evening and formerly-hotboxed room, leaned over him, sitting across him, knees digging into the side of Steve’s ribs a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve tries and fails miserably to stop the inevitable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Billy, don’t-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy yanks Steve’s arm up, pulls the sleeve down to expose the paler skin on the inside of Steve’s wrist. “C’mon man, what gives?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s heart is in his throat, it actually stops him from being able to talk. He’s sure Billy must be able to feel his pulse under the so-tight-it-could-bruise grip he has on Steve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy’s still stronger than him, and he’s got his free hand on Steve’s shoulder- Steve can barely move at all. All he can do is watch Billy read the writing, and wait for a response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well that’s vague as shit.” Billy laughs. “Such a nothing introduction.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy's grip loosens immediately now that he’s got what he wants but Steve doesn't pull his wrist away- he sort of feels like he can’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t get it.” Billy’s easy grin falters a little, looks down at Steve. “This isn't a weird one, why didn't you wanna…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s sure he looks guilty- guilty like maybe this is his fault, like maybe he could have done something to make this playout different, but he didn't. Everyone has a soulmate obviously, but people are also human. They can fuck up so bad they lose that chance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy stops dead. He reads the writing again- Steve can see his eyes focus on it. His pretty blue eyes. And he can see Billy blink, his brow furrow, and then he’s not smiling anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Harrington, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve tries to pull his hand back but suddenly Billy’s grip is tight again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think it’s me.” Billy says it almost like an accusation. Maybe it is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t wanna tell me ‘cause you think,” Billy looks at the writing again, practically scoffs. “You think this is me. That I said this-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, you did-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harrington. It’s just your fucking name.” Billy’s so defensive so quick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, I just didn’t-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So why the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> do you think it’s me-?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just do!” Steve grabs his hand back, actually breaking Billy’s grip, pushing himself up on his elbows, forcing Billy to sit back farther- but still he doesn't get up, still he has Steve’s legs pinned down. “It just. It makes sense, ok?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How does this make sense? Enlighten me-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” Steve sounds icier than he meant to. “Because, like, yeah, we hated each other for ages and never agree on anything and everything’s a fucking competition but I just, it just felt right. To think, you know, maybe… it’s you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy doesn't say anything for a long moment. Then he moves back, gets off Steve and on his feet in one, deft motion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Billy-” Steve tries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy’s already grabbing his jacket from where he tossed it on Steve’s bed, already shoving his boots on without socks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Nope. This is so not happening.” Billy sounds a brand of upset that Steve doesn't recognize. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not fucking doing this right now-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doing what?” Steve scrambles to his own, bare feet. “What are you talking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Billy’s already walking out of his room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sort of panic builds in Steve's chest- a panic he doesn't fully understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s realizing, as he chases Billy down the stairs of his house and out the front door, that this might be something...more. This might be the very beginning of just </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, something he’s scared to name, and just like that, the something blooms within him as he feels the warm breeze of twilight on his skin when he steps outside. No, not blooms. Breaks. Ruptures. Like a water balloon, or a whole fucking dam, because he gets hit with wave after wave of feelings he didnt even know he had, and he can’t let Billy leave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Billy, wait.” Steve lets the door slam behind him, and this particular twilight is warm, because spring is almost over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve expects Billy to just get in his car and drive off, but Billy turns around too quickly, and it makes Steve take a step back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have any idea, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Billy bites out. “How fucking long I’ve been trying to get over you? Feels like for-fucking-ever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Get over me?” Overwhelmed- that was definitely the word for how Steve was feeling. Billy likes him? Since when? Why? Why didn't he say something? “Do you-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I didn’t want to ever have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> this conversation-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think it’s a game of fucking guess-who saying you think I’m your fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>soulmate</span>
  </em>
  <span>?-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But, you think it is you? The first words?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’s me, Steve.” Billy sounds exasperated beyond words. “I just want it to be me, it’s just wishful fucking thinking, because its probably someone else-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Steve doesn't tend to think things through more than he absolutely has to, mostly because he makes all his Big Decisions by gut feeling. So when he kisses Billy, it just seems like the only correct response. Because maybe the something that he was feeling, maybe it’s something like love. Like they've been falling in love for ages, and just didn’t notice, or at least Steve didn’t. Because this feels like the right decision. Scratch that, it feels like the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> decision; kissing Billy. Grabbing his neck with both hands to pull him in, getting pushed up against his car almost immediately. It’s an alarmingly good kiss too, the kind of kiss that has Steve wondering why he didn't try kissing Billy ages ago. It feels right. It makes sense. Everything makes sense now. Like this whole time his head has just been scrambling to catch up with his heart, who knew what was happening from the get-go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy’s the one that pulls back. Like he got so caught up in it that he didn’t know how to react. His brow is furrowed again. One of his hands lingers on Steve's where Steve is still holding his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't think it’s someone else. ”</span>
</p>
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